by Ernest Thompson Seton

The Lone Scout
is a favorite for a single dancer. The dancer should be in white for the best
effect and carry a light fifteen-inch wooden shield on the left arm and a light
five foot spear of wood in the left hand. The making of these is sufficiently
shown in the cut.

It tells the
story of a scout who went forth alone.

First, the drum
gives a long roll to notify the audience the scout is coming in, then three
thumps for the scout to appear.

He springs into
the Ring, holding the spear high in one hand, and the shield in the other. He
gives a loud shout then changes the spear to the left hand with the shield. He
pats his mouth with the flat right hand to make the war cry; then dances to the
two-time (Zon-zi-mon-de or Muje Muke-sin will do to accompany the drum) around
the ring twice, showing off, as this is supposed to be in the village, swinging
the spear and buckler high in the air or clasping them together; making playful
passes at the spectators, tossing back his long hair or feathers streaming
behind--doing all in graceful gesture to the music. This is Part I, the show off
in the village.

Next the dancer
goes on the real war path, crouching somewhat now, shading his eyes with his
hand on the shield, listening for every sound, peering here and there, and
sometimes sticking the spear into things to pick them up for examination. Thus
he goes once around to two-time music.

At the
beginning of the fourth round, he stops and starts, he has found a trail and by
his action must show that he has. He follows an imaginary track all around,
picking up leaves and trying the wind or looking for helpful signs. When at
length back to the starting point, the next act begins.

Suddenly he
descries a lone sentry, unconscious of enemies, and is all tense excitement. Now
he crawls up, keeping step to the music which is now in march time, putting in
all possible expressions to tell the story, until nearly within throwing
distance, he rises, makes a "stodger" or feint with the spear, then
another, and at the third or last (rising higher each time) finally is just
about to let go when a noise out to one side suddenly attracts his attention. He
turns quickly to realize that close at hand is a band of his tribal enemies and
that he is in a trap. His expression of triumph changes to fear. He shrinks to
the ground and swiftly runs away till at the exit where he turns, and, flinging
back a defiant yell, shakes his spear at the foes and is lost to view.

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Old School Scouting:
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